Damage Assessment
by DreamScene
Summary: After yet another kidnapping, Sousuke goes out of his way to make sure Kaname's all right and inadvertently makes things worse. Kaname's unsure if she likes or hates it.


A/N: I don't know how this got into my head, but it did. I reread a few times and it looks like a mix of genres: romance, a little drama and a bit of humor. I love this pairing, by the way.

Feedback: Yes, please.

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Sousuke has a strange way of freaking out.

When she's kidnapped (yet again) and held under armed guard for a week, he goes on a rampage to find her. The ensuing retrieval mission goes off without a hitch and is successful. Kaname still isn't sure if there's a body count attached to Sousuke's record on account of rescuing her, but she's getting the feeling there might be several.

Despite being safe and sound, he is restless and just a touch irrational. He does his own inspection after the mandatory medical checkup despite her reassurances that she's fine, no one touched her but he's clearly deaf to her words, the big dummy.

Kaname gives in with a huff since he hurried her out of the medical wing without properly dressing and hauled her into his dorm.

There are probably a dozen rules against having members of the opposite sex in the bunkers, but even Kurz must have noticed Sousuke's desperation since he gives them privacy and finds reasons not to go back for the next few hours. Feigning ignorance will count for something in case they're caught, right?

Inside, Kaname is patiently bearing Sousuke's scrutiny as he strips her out of the thin medical robe. Really, he just moves it around to get a better look at her, but it feels like she might as well not be wearing it for all the skin she's showing. He spends a long time examining her legs backwards and forwards before moving on. She forgets to mention how her knees tickle when she feels his fingertips ghosting over them and she fights the urge to push him back with her foot.

Kaname tries not to focus on his fingers gathering up her hair as he moves it away.

Her bare back and shoulders are on display for him as she hugs her knees and the rumpled robe to cover up her chest. Other than her polka dot panties, she's not wearing anything. Sousuke has a surprisingly light touch for having such calloused fingers as he checks for bruises and stabs and other nonexistent wounds.

She sighs quietly, thinking about the mission she'd set out to do before this whole kidnapping business occurred. The plan involved getting him out on a normal date to dinner and a movie and perhaps ending with him splayed out under her on the couch. Or bed. Maybe even both.

But then, Mithril always had a way of sabotaging her plans. Although often, it was Sousuke's social ineptitude that prevented things from moving forward. Which probably would have happened. He has a knack for it. It's a gift, really. She considers it a miracle that she's been able to have him before. It's haunting her right now. She tries to push away memory of him under her the last time - slick with sweat as he tried to hold her in place when she didn't stop moving and looking so utterly helpless with a pleading expression, she almost squirms just thinking about it.

Kaname tries to ignore the warmth of his hands as he gently combs through her hair to look at her neck. If her notices the goosebumps (which she doubts), he doesn't mention it or bother asking. She tries to smother the urge of having him kiss her there.

He plucks her wrist from the loose embrace around her legs to stretch her arm out. So far, nothing except for a few birthmarks. Her nails are a tiny bit ragged, but her fingers are otherwise whole and unbroken. His thumb goes over the fading bruise she received last week during softball that had him rushing to get her ice.

He checks her other arm before asking her to turn around.

"Um," she freezes.

Does he understand the intimacy of the act they are in? She's practically naked in his bed as he analyzes her body. It's really no fault of hers when she finally flushes, bright red invading her cheeks like too much rouge. It alarms him.

"Are you ill?" he suddenly asks.

His hands reach for her face to determine if she's running a fever. She should be, for all the touching and staring he's been doing since he frogmarched her there.

"No!" she protests, a bit squeaky since she's so flustered.

He mutters something about the medical staff not doing their jobs to the best of their abilities when he feels her elevated temperature. She swats his hands away and is irritated with herself for being not able to decide on whether she loves or hates the attention he's giving her.

"I told you, I'm fine," she repeats for the seventh time that day.

"Shock tends to set in several hours or even days after a traumatic event," he explains. "It doesn't always manifest immediately."

She keeps her jaw from dropping when she thinks about she wants to show him blunt force trauma instead. But then, he gazes at her with soft eyes and she can't really find it in her to resist. He's heavy with remorse and if it'll make him feel better, then she's going to reassure him despite her embarrassment. And she is plenty mortified already.

"It'll only take a minute," he says, voice softening and totally disarms her without even trying. "Promise."

He's not leaving any room for discussion. She knows he'll keep his word. Still, something insistent tells her she'll regret this, sort of. So she covers her breasts by moving the fabric around before carefully maneuvering around in the tight quarters.

The way she's seated casts weird shadows and doesn't let him see clearly.

"Lie down, please?" he requests, sounding entirely too calm to her.

Her blush darkens, concentrating on her cheeks. The shocked silence lasts for a moment before her body can react and does as he asks. The sheets are stiff and cold on her back as she wonders if he can hear the absurd pounding of her heart before it pops out of her chest at any freaking second now.

She looks away at the boring metal color of the walls as a distraction. She needs to get her mind off the boy staring at her and not think about how she'd love to jump his bones and melt all over him. They've only kissed a few times and those occasions were usually instigated by her. She's been wanting more for some time and he doesn't even realize how he's tempting her. Stupid, dense...adorable idiot.

As her eyes trace the line of a pipe, she is made fully aware of the slight shift the fabric is making against her skin. There's a slight chill from the air conditioning and can't he see how her body is reacting to it? Her nipples are hard and the robe is white and she's pretty sure it's transparent from the bright light from above and the haphazard way she made it fit on her chest. He can see everything, she thinks and is caught halfway between dismay and delight.

She makes the mistake of looking at him when he gingerly moved a corner of the fabric to look under it without removing it entirely. His studious gaze is dark and intense, unintentionally seductive. She's entirely too warm.

Kaname's never wanted to tackle someone so badly. She swallows the urge to do so with a hard gulp and forces her hands to stay in place.

His fingers stop messing with the robe as they skim over her throat to cup her chin in his palm. He tips her face to one side, smoothing away her hair before making her move to the opposite side. And like that, his examination is complete when his hand retreats.

Somehow, she manages to stay composed as he turns around to let her pull on the robe. She's shaking as she ties the thin belt to hold the thing together.

"Damage assessment, soldier?" she asks, trying to keep her tone light and doesn't try to mention how her sanity has taken another hard hit from his obliviousness.

She's horribly curious and dying to get her hands all over him. But his back is too rigid and she worries he might misconstrue her actions if she suddenly drapes herself all over him.

"You were right," he tells her. "Couldn't find anything."

Slowly, she slides forward to where he's sitting on the edge of the bed. Palms press against his back before slipping upward to circle around his ribs. She perches her chin on his shoulder.

"You need looking after," she says softly.

He refused medical attention once he got back and she's sure he's in worse shape than her.

"It's not a problem," he replies, although it sounds a little mechanical to her.

But she's not convinced since he's a stubborn bastard. She persuades him by nuzzling his neck and breathes him in.

"Take off your shirt," she says.

Her tone is sweet in his ear, making it easier to comply as he deposits the first aid kit on the bed beside her. He's tired and his muscles strain with the movement of pulling the shirt over his head. She helps him pull it off, though he doesn't notice her eagerness through the fog of exhaustion.

The rustle of medical supplies is easy to distinguish. Her touch is warm as fingers skim over him, finding the bruises and shallow scrapes littering his arms and shoulders.

Her lips press lightly against the first scrape.

"Kaname?" he asks, sounding sleepy.

She carefully smears the wound with disinfectant and ointment before covering it with a bandage. A grin spreads on her face, giddy to hear a jittery hint in his voice.

"Haven't you ever heard of making it all better with a kiss?" she teases.

She knows the answer even before he says it.

"No," he replies. "But - "

He trails off when she finds the next one and he doesn't remember what to say anymore about it not being medically sound advice. The damage isn't as bad as she first expected, totaling only a handful of minor lacerations.

Sousuke leans back into her when she's done, the back of his head resting on her warm shoulder. He's content having those arms around him. A gentle kiss is pressed on his temple, then his cheek, followed by the corner of his mouth.

A fingertip glides over his collarbone, down his chest.

"You have a few cuts here," she says.

"Hm," he replies.

A sudden chill on his back alerts him that she's moving. He misses the warmth of her body as he falls back onto the mattress. She situates herself next to him and stares at him. Again, he feels her lips on her skin before the slight sting of medication kicks in.

Kaname's done too quickly for him.

He wonders how he got any scrapes on his neck when she kisses him there repeatedly. Maybe the Arbalest restraints bit into his skin at some point he can't remember. The days feels like a blur to him. But she doesn't stop to put anything on it and keeps going along his throat, his chin and under his ear. Instinctively, he leans into her.

Fingers run through his dark hair as she presses her forehead on his. Noses slide gently across one another.

When he finally kisses her, she counts it among the few times he's initiated it.

The tie of the flimsy robe becomes undone when she repositions herself to straddle his lap. He feels heat when she moves, soft breasts against his chest. Blindly, she finds his hands and makes sure he slides them inside the robe, over her bare waist. He gasps into her mouth, allowing her to taste him better as she slides her tongue in.

"I missed you," she breathes warmly in his ear before he finds her mouth again.

She's not sure how he does it, but the next thing she notices is him above her. Arms twine around his neck, mindful of the wounds she just patched up even though she really, really wants to rake her nails down his back.

Kaname writhes against him, earning a shaky exhale and groan from him as he finally pulls away from her. She keeps him from going too far by tightening her grip around his neck.

"I was worried," he says miserably against her bare shoulder. "Didn't know if I'd get there on time."

When their eyes meet, she sees how he still has that haunted, dark look he had earlier.

"I knew you'd find me," she says, sounding so sure it pains him. "You always do."

He pins her down with another kiss that leaves her dizzy. When her hips roll against him again, he freezes. It finally dawns on him how he's between her legs. Not that he's complaining.

"Kaname?" he sounds uncertain.

Teeth scrape lightly along his shoulder.

"Shut up," she growls.

One arm unwinds from him to shake off the sleeve. It hangs limply to the side as she works to get rid of the other one. She needs him to touch her, really touch her - none of that feather light contact he kept teasing about earlier. She needs him to press his palms against her and maybe dig his fingers into her skin a little. She needs him to go crazy with her. Now.

"Take off your clothes," she demands breathlessly.

To her surprise, he does it without being told twice.

They sink into the bed as she directs his hands where to go since he's too shy to explore her without some prompting. She is deliriously happy as he kisses her endlessly that it makes her shiver and crush herself to him. As she's touching him, she can't recall when her panties came off or if he was the one to peel them off her.

She isn't aware when she starts admitting things in his ear: how she sometimes makes the food he likes when he isn't there; the days drag on way too long without him there; she fought with Shinji for the latest AS magazine while he was gone; she misses having his arm to hold onto when there's a scary movie on TV or pressing her face to his shoulder for comfort.

His body surrenders to her, every movement made is only to hear her better, feel her closer though her limbs are twined around him and she's wanting more.

"_Sousuke_," she pleads.

He covers her mouth with his own, hands drawing her blindly, finding soft skin and addictive curves.

Sousuke listens only to the sound of her voice—at the sounds she makes when he touches her; at the confessions she makes in his ear; at the residual warmth her breath leaves on his skin; at the soft noises she makes when can't speak anymore; at the way his name sounds when she repeats it again and again (desperate, blissful, frustrated, sweet, hungry, demanding).

Kaname is hanging on tightly when he says he loves her.

They're both catching their breath when she embraces him, forcing him to listen to her raised pulse as his ear presses to her soft chest.

"I love you, too," she smiles and can't help but add, "dummy."

Frantic knocking is at the metal door and echoes loudly in the quarters. Kurz has rescinded his earlier promise to prevent his own court marshal at all costs by trying to warn them.

Kaname rushes to get sort of dressed in the embarrassing excuse of a robe while being covered by the thin bed sheet.

"Urzu-7, the Captain is on her way," he says. "She's been asking if anyone knows where Kaname is. Rumor is: she's been kidnapped again!"

Kaname hangs her head, lamenting she didn't have her harisan with her to knock some sense into Mithril soldiers, beginning with the closest ones to her at the moment.


End file.
